


Secret Santa's Secret Feelings

by sharkeu



Series: Jingle Bells! A GOT7 Christmas [4]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Christmas Party, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Office AU, Secret Santa, exchange gifts, secret feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkeu/pseuds/sharkeu
Summary: You are sure Bambam is your Secret Santa, but he's about to spill more secret you've been dying to know.





	Secret Santa's Secret Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot is part of Jingle Bells! A GOT7 Christmas: Seven stand alone but (somehow) interconnected member x reader one shots to make you feel the love this holiday season! Merry Christmas! <3

It’s Christmas Eve morning and you gathered all your will and sanity this morning to get up and to go to work. It’s basically Christmas and you hated the fact that you have to go to work on this most-waited holiday.

You have always been a Christmas person. You loved Christmas shopping and giving gifts to your friends and family. You always put your best in Christmas decorations and just basically start wearing cozy oversized sweaters in Christmas colors as soon as December starts.

“Ugh. Why do I have to be here this early?” You groaned to yourself as you make yourself coffee at the office pantry.

“I know, right? Who goes to work so early on Christmas Eve?”

You almost jumped in your place when you hear someone speak. You turned around and found Bambam, your coworker you’ve been crushing on for forever, behind you.

“Oh, I know who, you.” Bambam added taking a mug on the cabinet over your head, making the slightest touch when your arms brushed together. You felt sparks all over your body.

Bickering is always your thing. “Yeah, says someone who’s here an hour before work starts.” You fought back, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

Bambam grunted, taking the coffee from you. “Don’t even talk about it. My supervisor is making me work for this presentation. It’s so fucking early.”

“What? It’s almost Christmas, we should only be chilling.” You said putting cream and sugar in your cup before putting on at Bambam’s—two tablespoons sugar, one cream.

You and Bambam are pretty close—went on interview together, started on the same day, ended up beside each other’s desk—saying you have a little crush on him is an understatement.

“You?” Bambam asked turning around to rest his back on the counter.

“Secret Santa.” You answered. “I had to put my gift early in the tree so that my baby won’t find out who I am.”

Bambam shook his head. “You’re really taking this seriously, huh?”

You nodded sipping at your coffee.

If not for your company’s Secret Santa reveal today, you would’ve skipped worked and helped your mom prepare for Christmas Eve dinner later. You have always looked forward to this and Secret Santa is just extra special for you today.

You’ve been receiving the best little somethings from your Secret Santa this year. On the first week, for something red and long, you received a red cashmere scarf. Second week you got a box of dark chocolate covered almonds for something hard and sweet which Bambam almost finished on his own. Last week was old and colorful and you received the best give yet—a restored and colored photo of old New York. It speaks straight to your aesthetic heart and you just loved every bit of it.

Your Secret Santa is really taking this gift giving on the next level and not just you, but all your coworkers have been anticipating the gifts you are getting.

This week’s theme, the last week, is something meaningful and memorable. You and all your coworkers are beyond excited for this week. Not only is it a very vague and challenging theme but also because today’s the reveal and everyone is just dying to know who your Secret Santa is.

You have one person in mind, though—Bambam. This can only be Bambam. It’s like he’s actually pointing the arrows at him directly. Bambam is a very stylish guy and that red cashmere scarf? Totally his style. You both love almonds and you always keep one box in your desk for the two of you to share in between work. Bambam just used the gift giving as an excuse for another box of almonds. And the New York. Bambam knows how much you love New York and you just can’t directly explain it but, you really had a big feeling Bambam is behind all these gifts. Also, only Bambam will go extravagant and went over the budget at even the silliest things.

“Well, good luck then.” Bambam said before exiting the pantry.

“You mean good luck to you. You need that more.” You replied.

A few moments later, your friend approached you.

“Wow, isn’t it too early to flirt?” She teased.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes.

“So?” She mumbled.

“So what?” you asked.

She rolled her eyes.

“What?” You repeated.

She sighed. “Did he confessed to you? That he’s your Secret Santa?”

You shook your head. “Of course not. Who will preempt the big reveal?”

“But you’re sure it’s him?”

You nodded.

“How did you even know?”

“I just do.”

“Whatever. So what if he isn’t your Secret Santa?”

“Then he isn’t.”

You swear her eyes are close to falling off her lids by how hard she rolled her eyes.

“Tell me what you mean exactly instead of throwing me questions!” You demanded.

She took a deep, impatient breath. “Are you finally gonna tell him you like him?”

You throw one hand at her mouth shutting her up. “Shut up!”

She inched away from your grip. “You told me to tell exactly what I mean!”

You rolled your eyes then sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not? Maybe next year.”

“Just gather up your courage and kiss him already. It’s been years!”

“I don’t know. What if he doesn’t like me?”

She took a dramatic sigh. “Oh, trust me. Bambam definitely likes you.”

It would be a lie to say that you didn’t see it. There are signs, while they aren’t in neon lights, the signs aren’t hard to see. You personally wouldn’t take your nonsense bickering for flirting, as what your friend is always trying to point out, but there are other things. Like you share the same sense of humor, always have inside jokes between you. And although he’s a bit immature most of times, he’s also extremely nice. Behind his playful acts, he has subtle gentleman acts in him that never fails to make you weak on the knees. It’s stuff that someone who has feelings for you does, right?

There’s a bit of a problem though. He acts like that to almost everyone. Bambam is naturally nice to everyone. He’s funny and loves making the whole office laugh with his weird little quirks. And he’s a real gentleman, in fact, he is actually more open being a cassanova to others except you.

Bambam has been sending you mixed signals since day one when you stumble upon each other on the interview. You shared small talk and decided to go grab coffee from the vending machine while waiting for your turn. You swear he purposely spilled his drink on himself. Turns out, he didn’t have any tissue nor handkerchief with him so you ended up lending him yours.

Bambam has been driving your feelings crazy and honestly, you kind of enjoy it at first. Juggling the tension between the two of you—at one point being more sweet than usual then being an immature jerk the next minute. It’s a push and pull of feelings that is only exciting at first.

Two years of push and pull is just about enough for you. You thought about confronting him about it and just casually confessing your feelings for him. Which actually sounded pretty easy. At first.

Every moment you try and talk about it, he seem to sense it and totally throw the mood away by joking around. As much as it will annoy you, it also creeps fear in you that confronting whatever it is that you share, will put your friendship into ashes.

 

 

You just came back from having lunch with your girl friends and put a bag bahn mi on top of Bambam’s laptop.

“We grabbed lunch at the Vietnamese place you like.” You said walking to your desk beside his. “I didn’t see you go out for lunch so I assumed you haven’t ate yet.”

“Oh.” He said taking the sandwich. “I’m starving.”

“I figured.” You said opening your laptop. There isn’t much for your to do at work today so you have been just scrolling through Buzzfeed the whole day, feeling bad that Bambam is working his ass off while you basically do nothing.

“I knew it you like me so much.” Bambam mumbled.

“What? No!” You disagreed, turning your head at him a bit too dramatically only to find him savoring his sandwich.

He chuckled while taking a bite. “Okay, no need to be so disgusted.”

“I-I’m not disgusted.” You stuttered.

“Then, I’m actually right and you like me?” He teased.

“Huh? I—no. Uh, I mean—I—“

He started laughing. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Bambam said standing up. “Look at you, you’re so red.”

You consciously put your hands on your face and felt how hot your cheeks are. Bambam walks pass by you and patted your head. “Thanks for the lunch.”

 

 

You and your coworkers gather around the Christmas tree for the Secret Santa reveal. Everyone looks so excited, but in all honesty, they’re all just waiting for your reveal.

The gods of cliffhangers might be on your side because there are only two gifts left under the tree and you haven’t met your Secret Santa yet.

Your boss is the next to come near the tree and took a gift. For a second, you feared that he might be your Secret Santa. Although your boss is an old fluffy grandpa, it will disappoint you a bit if he’s your Secret Santa.

Bambam is standing firm on your side though—finally free from the shackles of his last minute report—is keeping your hopes up and your sanity in cyclones. If he really turns out to be your Secret Santa, does that mean he likes you? Of course not. But all these extra thoughtful gifts can’t help but give you that impression.

“I bet he’s your Secret Santa.” Bambam whispered beside you. His face too close at yours making all the hair in your body stand. “I mean look at him, he’s exactly a Santa.”

You turned to him nudging him on his side, afraid that your boss might hear him.

You both started giggling, trying hard not to break into loud laughter. You were stopped when your boss stopped in front the two of you. But instead of you, he gave the gift to Bambam.

“Merry Christmas, Bambam.” Your boss greeted, patting Bambam on his shoulder.

Bambam looked so funny all white and embarrassed receiving a gift from his Secret Santa. They took a picture together before your boss came back to his office leaving you and all of your coworkers anticipate for your gift.

Your heart started beating louder, you start to wonder if Bambam can hear it beside you. This makes sense, you thought to yourself. Bambam is the last one to receive a gift. It’s his turn to give his. There’s only one gift left under the tree. You’re the only one left without a gift. This only points to one thing.

Bambam is your Secret Santa.

You look around the room and you’re not the only one thinking the same thing. You saw your friend from across the room giving you looks that only mean one thing. You pursed your lips trying to fight smiling. It’s not only your friend who’s giving you looks, your coworkers are glancing at you and Bambam too, all are aware of the undeniable connection from the two of you.

Your heart beats even louder and you’re afraid that any faster, it can beat out of your chest. You felt conscious at the looks of your coworkers but can’t help look at Bambam too.

Bambam must have felt the eyes on him and looked from the gift on his hand to the people around him with confused look.

“Bam,” you whispered, trying to be ignorant of the obvious. “It’s your turn to give your gift.”

“Huh?” Bambam asked innocently. “I didn’t join.”

Your eyes went dark and wide. No. It’s impossible. It can’t be happening. How can Bambam not join when he’s your Secret Santa?

“What?! Bullshit.” You said in surprise and disbelief.

Bambam look at you in the same surprise and disbelief, your coworkers giving you the looks too.

“I-I mean,” You stutter in embarrassment. “I-I didn’t know you’re allowed not to join.”

“I didn’t pick on the names.” Bambam explained.

You grunted in disbelief.

“Okay! Let’s move on!” Your friend announced trying to ease up the awkward atmosphere. She walked to the Christmas tree and took the remaining gift. She called your name after reading the tag. “As expected, it’s for you. So who’s your Secret Santa?”

Everyone in the room looked around, waiting for your Secret Santa to reveal his—or her—self.

But it’s taking long. Too long. The anticipation is rapidly dropping. No one is coming to get the gift.

“Secret Santa?” Your friend asked.

Still no one answered. You started feeling embarrassed. Your cheeks feeling hot.

“Well, somebody’s shy.” Your friend announced. “Here it is, babe.” She said giving the small box to you.

You wanted the ground to just eat you up in embarrassment. You can’t believe your Secret Santa is bailing on you. But you tried being the mature person that you should be and went on with opening the gift.

Something meaningful and memorable. Your Secret Santa has been having his best foot forward the past weeks and you just hope he makes up for not revealing himself with an awesome gift.

But your shoulders dropped when you opened a gift and found a handkerchief.

You heard a couple of ohs around you and it seems like you’re not the only one disappointed. Did your Secret Santa suddenly ran out of ideas or something? You suddenly resent him. You know it’s petty to act up on this but you just can’t help but be disappointed.

Your coworkers couldn’t hide their disappointment too. You can’t really blame them. When they’re all expecting something big and special for the last gift, you received the most basic gift to be ever given—a handkerchief.

It didn’t take much time before the people gathered went back to their places to fix their things and go home. It’s Christmas Eve and when things are boring at work, everyone just wanted to go home.

“I’m sorry.” Your friend whispered.

You just answered with a heavy sigh.

“But forget it!” Her mood was so easily shifted. “You’ve got other things to think of. Like confessing to Ba—“

You threw your hands over her mouth even before she can finish. “Shut your mouth! Please!” You pleaded, looking at Bambam, who is walking in front of you, making sure he didn’t hear a word.

“What?” Your friend demanded. “You’re gonna tell him anyway.”

“You think I’m still in the mood to tell him now?” You said.

“So abort mission?” Disappointment flashed your friend’s face.

You shrugged in reply. “I’ll see you out.”

In an instant, all your coworkers are rushing out, straight to the elevator.

You went back to your desk to fix your things. Your shoulders slumped in disappointment.

You’re looking down your things, stuffing them inside your bag when you felt a finger pointing at your face. It’s Bambam of course. You’re not in the mood to play with him right now so focused on your things.

Bambam continued poking your cheek though.

“Bam,” You groaned. “Stop.”

Bambam didn't answer and just stopped poking your cheek. Once you’re done with your things, you went out without looking at Bambam, just giving him a soft Merry Christmas.

You know you shouldn't be throwing tantrums right now and more so not throwing tantrums at Bambam when he has nothing to do here. But when you thought he’s your Secret Santa all along, you just can’t help but put the blame on him.

You sighed upon meeting your friend in the long line for the elevator.

“Just tell him already.” Your friend said.

“No.” You answered.

“Bambam should know, you know.” She added.

“No.” You repeated.

“Come on, it’s Christmas! It’s the perfect time to confess to someone!” She added.

“No.”

“You want me to tell Bambam?” She teased.

You rolled your eyes. “No one’s gonna tell Bambam anything, okay? Drop it.”

“Hm, you guys talking about me?”

Bambam suddenly spoke behind you making you and your friend freeze in you places. You both started stuttering making up excuses while Bambam looks at both of you, waiting.

“Uh, you know what?” Your friend said. “I think I’m gonna go take the stairs.”

“The stairs?” Bambam is wide-eyed in shock.

“Yes, I’ve been sitting all day I need to stretch my legs.” She said before storming out of your sights.

“Is she serious? We’re on the twentieth floor.” Bambam said.

You laughed nervously. “I know right? Stupid.”

Bambam just chuckled shaking his head then you both turned silent.

Your hands started feeling cold and you clasped them together to hide it tremble but it’s just making it worse.

You start to panic internally. Just how much of your conversation did Bambam hear? How long has he been here? Did he hear about your feelings for him? Is he just playin dumb? Is he making fun of you right now? Does he hate you right now?

Is that his face inches away from your face right now?

“So, what are you talking about me in secret?” Bambam whispered right in your ear, making all the hair in you body stood.

“N-nothing!” You denied inching away from him. “Why would we talk about you?”

Bambam straightened his back. You are so annoyed on how smug he looks with his hands on his pocket, standing so tall.

“But I heard my name.” Bambam said.

“We are not talking about you, delusional.” You said crossing your arms.

“You’re definitely talking about me.” Bambam insisted.

“Uh, no. We are not talking about you.” You answered impatiently.

“Uh, you are definitely talking about me.” Bambam said mocking you.

“Ugh!” You grunted a bit too loud earning a few heads turning in your direction.

Bambam chuckled while you turn away from people’s looks but basically end up hiding behind his tall figure.

The elevator came and big group of people went in making the line move closer to it. You and Bambam didn't make still though.

“You’re losing a lot of your composure today, huh?” Bambam commented. “I’m not used to you losing banters.”

You just rolled your eyes because it’s true. It’s always never ending bantering between you and Bambam and you always have your witty comebacks. Seems like your wit is really off today.

“It’s because of my boring Secret Santa.” You mumbled.

“Now you hate him that much.” Bambam said. “Or her. It could be a her.”

You looked at him, for one last time trying to see if Bambam really isn’t your Secret Santa. “Yeah.”

“Give them a break.” Bambam said turning to the line in front of them which is moving again. “It’s Christmas Eve, they probably had go home early or something.”

You both got in the elevator but it alarmed for overloading so when you heard a few sighs inside, you and Bambam decided to go back out and let the person behind you in.

“I’m just a bit disappointed or maybe I just expected too much.” You finally admitted.

Bambam nodded, agreeing with you.

“But he—or she—really went overboard the past weeks, you can’t blame me, you know.” The elevator doors opened again and you both finally got in, taking the corner side of the elevator, as people behind you follow.

“I mean look at this,” You said taking out the handkerchief. “It’s supposed to be meaningful and memorable but this is the most generic gift ever.” You pouted.

Bambam flashed a weak smile. The elevator doors opened and a couple of people went in making the already crowded elevator be more cramped. People squeezed in pushing you more inside. The bulky backpack of the guy in front of your face.

Bambam shifted his body, moving amidst the people pushing more, so that had his back on the backpack and moving it away from you. He reached for the railings on your side to support his body.

You tried to inch away but you already had your back on the railings so you have no choice but stay in place—your faces roughly a foot away from each other.

“I’m sure he has his reasons.” Bambam mumbled, his voice sure, even with the pronouns he used.

You looked up at him and found him looking away. You thought it’s probably because he’s feeling awkward too with your positions but you see something in his eyes; like there’s something he is hiding, not trying to you say.

You wanted to ask what is but another group of people came in, pushing you farther inside. There’s no more space for you to move so it’s basically just Bambam getting squeezed in. He tried to give space between the two of you but it’s impossible not to make anymore awkward contact so he took both your bags and placed it between the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“I-it’s okay.” You stuttered.

You stayed like that until you reached the ground floor. One by one, people leave the elevator giving you space to breathe and you both were able to got out of the elevator too.

You couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh of relief once you got out.

“You hate being close to me that much?” Bambam asked.

You rolled your eyes thinking Bambam is starting a bickering war again but you looked at him and his eyes are serious. Your heart sank a little bit.

“What are you talking about?” You asked nervously. “Of course not!”

“Then you like to be close to me then, huh?” Bambam said moving closer to you turning his sad face into a smug smile.

You groaned. “I hate you.”

Bambam started laughing too hard that it sounded fake.

“Are you okay, Bam?” You asked.

“What? Yeah, of course.” Bambam answered as you exit the building.

You went ahead to your usual path, Bambam trailing behind you. You take the same bus and basically goes home together every night.

When you got to the corner before the bus stop, Bambam stopped walking behind you.

“Jaebum!” You heard Bambam call when you turn behind him. “Go ahead! I don't think I’m gonna take the bus tonight. Merry Christmas!”

The next thing you knew, Bambam is already running towards the car waving his hand dramatically.

“Merry Christmas.” You whispered to nothing. You shrugged your shoulders and went on with you walk.

You fixed your things as you walk and the handkerchief you received fell down. You knelt down to get it and once again got reminded of how plain it was. Handkerchiefs are the most used gifts and this particular floral handkerchief is looking so generic you remember having one looking exactly the same.

_Shit._

You are remembering it just now. How fool can you be to forget your own handkerchief?

This handkerchief is yours and Bambam is definitely your Secret Santa.

You turned around, dramatically looking for Bambam but your eyes can’t find him this far. So you ran back to where you last seen him, about a couple of blocks away from where you are right now.

Chances are Bambam has hitched a ride from the one he was calling earlier and you’re just wasting your time and energy running back to him. You’re feeling like a fool too for running after him when this isn’t some romantic comedy film and you’re definitely going to see him in the next couple of days.

But it’s finally making sense now. Why he was acting so weird since the Secret Santa reveal, in the elevator ride and throwing unnecessary tantrums.

Bambam is definitely your Secret Santa. This handkerchief is much more meaningful and memorable than what it seems. It was the handkerchief you lent him on the day of your interview. The handkerchief he hasn't gave back in the past two years. Until now.

He finally gave it back in the most memorable way possible but you were too preoccupied with the Secret Santa and your expectations that you didn't see what this actually meant.

You stopped running, panting and resting your palms on your knees to catch your breath. You can’t run anymore. You wasted too much energy running after him when God knows he could have gone in the car and be kilometers away right now. You are having trouble catching your breath—you’re lacking oxygen and the cold wind isn’t helping much.

You heard someone call your name making you look up in an instant but was too weak to find who it was.

“Hey, what happened to you? Are you okay?” Bambam’s two hands landed on both on your shoulders, giving you support. “What the hell is wrong? Did you run?”

You just answer him with a smile, showing him the handkerchief. “Hi, Secret Santa.”

 

 

You went inside one diner to let you catch your breath and grab some snacks. Turns out, Bambam wasn't able to reach his friend and stayed around a bit before going for the bus.

“I thought you wouldn't find out.” Bambam said as you drink you third glass of water.

“I almost didn't. But why didn't you tell me?” You accused. “I would have remembered if you said so.”

“It’s memorable.” Bambam said. “You should’ve remembered it but I don't think it means as much as it does to me.”

“What?” You reacted, guilty of the accusation. “Do you think I would run here if it didn't mean anything to me?”

Bambam looked away instead of answering.

“Why didn't you tell me it was you?” You asked.

“I chickened out.” He muttered under his breath.

“Chickened out?” You echoed. “You aren’t supposed to do anything but tell it was you.”

He grunted. “Everyone has their eyes on you. On me. On us.”

You leaned your elbows on the table and rested your chin on your palms, waiting for him to continue.

He sighed. “I got conscious you know, scared even.”

“Scared? Scared of what?” You asked, puzzled.

“Yes. Scared.” He repeated. “I had it all planned already, my gift, everything, I even had a speech on mind—“

“Speech? For what? For your Secret Santa reveal? You’re taking it way to seriously!” You chuckled.

“Yeah,” He said finally turning to you. “A speech. A speech for my secret feelings reveal.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart skipped a beat. Your chin almost fell from your palms.

 _Secret feelings_.

You wanted to ask what he was talking about but you felt your throat dry, unable to speak a word.

Bambam saw the questions in your eyes. He took a deep breath. “Yes. I like you.”

You didn't know it was possible to feel this much happiness. You wanted to jump, scream in joy but you stopped yourself and pursed your lips.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you so when I picked your name, I just knew it is the right time.” Bambam started. “But then everyone started to anticipate and I got scared.” He trailed off. “I got scared, what if you turn me down? Or you get embarrassed by what I’m doing? Or hate—“

“I like you too, Bambam.” You said, interrupting him.

 

 

You were walking to the bus stop shortly after grabbing snacks. You still bicker like eight-year-olds. Bambam still has his weird antics and you’re still impatient like an old lady. Nothing much have changed, only this time, your hands are in his, keeping them inside his coat’s pocket, warm from the holiday wind.


End file.
